


Coping Mechanism

by elfineyes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Coping, Hallucinations, M/M, PTSD, Psychosis, Trauma, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7755652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfineyes/pseuds/elfineyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Blackwatch, Jesse sees things that aren't there.</p><p>EDIT: Also available in Chinese! Thank you yil!</p><p>http://whenshallwehavedinner.lofter.com/post/1d5b0d90_c2a80e0</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping Mechanism

Jesse wasn’t sure when it started happening. At first he thought it was just leftover instincts from his time in Blackwatch. A kind of hypervigilance that he still couldn’t shake where he saw the flickers of enemies at the corners of his eyes. It wasn’t until they became more persistent that he realized something might be wrong.

Nighttime was the worst, when they would come and sit by his head, on his chest, at the end of his bed. Even with his eyes closed he could still sense them. No amount of bitter wishing made them go away. He would breathe as quietly as he could, hoping that just maybe they wouldn’t sense him there this time.

They never did anything except wait around with their presence suffocating him. He stopped flinching every time one appeared. It was never someone he knew, just a vague shadow. Just a reminder that he would never feel completely at ease again. He tried to always be in before dark, holed up in his room with three night lights to illuminate the walls with a soft and even glow. It grounded him more before he had to sleep.

But tonight it was harder to drift off. The ache in Jesse’s arm was a dull throb that kept pulling him back to earth, grounding him much more than he would liked. Dragging himself up and out of bed was a feat, one he barely managed before trudging out to the living room. His fingers massaged the skin around his shoulder, pressing in where it fused with the cold metal as he let his body fall back onto the sofa. Normally he would have turned on the TV, letting the infomercials lull him back into a semi-conscious state. Too bad he had lost the remote earlier and never bothered to find it. His legs were too leaden to stand so he sat there in the quiet dark, his least favorite place in the world. 

It could’ve been minutes or an hour, Jesse didn’t know when he opened his eyes to find a dark shape in the corner. It was a different shape from the looming, faceless shadows with the hands that reached out. It didn’t even seem to acknowledge him. His breath hitched a little in his chest regardless. New shadows were never good, too unpredictable.

Jesse didn’t know if he could move or not so he remained glued to the couch, his eyes trained on the figure in the corner. It felt like years before the shadow stepped forward with darkness swishing around its feet, almost mesmerizing. Heavy footsteps reverberated through the creaky floorboards to Jesse’s own bare feet. He had stopped breathing at some point, he wasn’t sure when. When it came to a stop in front of him, pale light from the lamppost outside flooded the space under its hood, bone white poking out starkly. A sob threatened the back of Jesse’s throat and he closed his eyes.

A solid glove settled on his head and the smell of leather filled his nose as a sigh came from its mouth, wherever that was.

“You really need to get your shit together, McCree.”

Bile rose up in Jesse’s throat as his eyes snapped open. But it wasn’t Reyes’s face. It was just the skull he had seen before. It wasn’t the worn out hoodie no matter how you looked at it. It wasn’t Gabriel. Still his heart seemed to stutter against his ribs, filling his ears. 

It wasn’t Gabriel no matter how he looked at it.

Slowly the glove dragged over his hair, mussing it even more. The gesture was so familiar that Jesse wanted to ask, was it him? Still he remained quiet. There was no way. He had been at the funeral. Even though they hadn’t been on the best terms at the time, his commander would have never done that to him.

As doubts and questions ran through his mind the figure stepped back again. It seemed to fade into the shadows, melding away into the room. Instinctively Jesse reached out to grab the cloak, wanting to know if he was wrong so desperately. His hand closed on the empty air and there he was. Alone in his apartment.

Breath coming too quickly now, he managed to grab the blanket off the back of the sofa and wrap himself tightly in it. The rough fabric scraped against his cheek as he fell to his side.

\---

Morning seemed to come moments later, filtering red through his eyelids. Jesse’s head felt like it was deep underwater as he sat up with the pressure ringing in his ears. He sat there for several minutes processing before heaving a deep sigh and hauling himself to his feet. Grief was a bitch to deal with.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very self-indulgent headcanon I share with a friend who commissioned me to write this.


End file.
